


you've got a frenemy in me

by kellifer_fic



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Stuffed Toys, Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellifer_fic/pseuds/kellifer_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avengers Toy Story AU. Yes, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- There will be some toy violence.
> 
> \- This is a story about toys so there will be no sex. However, there will be rampant hand to hand action. Maybe some smooching.

"PHIL, LUNCH!"

Phil jumps to his feet, skinny legs pumping as he skirts around his bedroom door and then thumps down the steps. There's a beat and then all of Phil's toys let out a collective sigh and unfreeze from their positions.

Steve turns over, levers to his feet and then thumps the side of the cardboard box/jail that he'd been propped against. The flap pushes open and a disgruntled-looking plush hawk ambles out. "Why have I always gotta be the bad guy?" Clint complains.

"I think you make a marvellous Baron Von Hawkington," Steve says, patting Clint's head as he passes. Clint smacks at his hand with an annoyed wing. "Scourge of the bedroom!"

" _I_ think you've been dropped on your head too much," Clint retorts, kicking sullenly at the box. "Why can't I be _Captain_ Hawk and save the day for once? I don't think I even look particularly evil. It's not like I'm _Fury_." Clint gestures across the room at a large yellow hare with one missing button eye that's ordering about the array of other soft toys. Fury had grudgingly acknowledged Steve's general leadership of the room but insisted on being in charge of anything stuffed.

Clint's the only one that ignores him.

"So I was wondering," Steve says, wanting to change the subject and improve Clint's sour mood. "There wasn't many attendees at the BC seminar last night. Do you know why?"

"You're surprised that no one wanted to attend a meeting about _Battery Corrosion, the silent killer_?" Clint asks, immediately looking less irate. 

Steve sighs. "I made a PowerPoint presentation."

"They _wanted_ a meeting about the birthday party," Natasha says, appearing around the corner of the box and delicately lowering to sit on an alphabet block. Steve eyes the way she's sharpening her crook with deliberate motions. She used to be sweet as pie but ever since Phil colored her hair in red with magic marker she's been a little... unsettling.

"We have this panic every year. It's completely unwarranted."

"For you, maybe," Clint says. "Some of us are getting..." Clint hesitates, then leans forward, gesturing for Steve to do the same. " _Bald patches_ ," he hisses roughly in Steve's ear. He sits back on his cloth claws and adds, "What if Phil gets a bird of prey that's plushier than me?"

"Then he'll play with you both. C'mon, it's _Phil_. He loves us all equally."

"You don't really think that," Natasha says, not bothering to look up when one of her sheep drops from the top of the box in front of her with a _Baa-ya!_ The little guys have been trying to startle Natasha for weeks without being successful. They're really trying with the whole ninja thing but it's not really working out for them.

"Phil-"

"Loves you the best. He's got Captain America posters, trading cards, a _lunchbox_. Of course the doll is going to be his favorite."

"He would feel the same about me if I was a Stanley Stretch," Steve sniffs.

"RAAAAAAARRRR!" 

"You've been practicing buddy, awesome," Steve says, turning to see Bruce hovering behind him.

"I have. I really, _almost_ felt it that time, felt the... the _rage_ ," Bruce says, twisting his large green hands nervously together.

"You've been going to your non-anger management therapy?" 

"Every Thursday. Janice has been helping a lot," Bruce confirms, picking up the sheep that had tried to surprise Natasha and tossing it casually from hand to hand, the sheep bleating protest the entire time. Steve intercepts a toss and sets the sheep down on wobbly feet when it starts getting really distressed.

" _Janice_ is a smurf," Clint huffs, rolling his googly eyes.

"She's a Doctor Smurf," Bruce says primly.

"Just because she's got a lab coat painted on doesn't mean-"

There's a rat-a-tat-tat from the door, _Phil returning_ code and Steve throws his hands up, bellows, "Places everyone. Seems like he got lunch to go!" Steve pushes Clint back towards the interior of the cardboard box and then slumps against the outside, casting a wary eye around the room to check that everyone else has returned to position just as the door flies open and Phil appears, clutching a sandwich.

*

Steve blinks awake to something pressed up against his feet.

It's a present.

"What is it?" Natasha asks, flipping neatly up onto the bed. There's the sounds of a building commotion from the floor, curiosity flipping over into nervousness because it's an _early_ present, something shipped from a magical land Steve has only heard tell of called Abroad. 

The wrapping paper is fairly innocuous. Phil's into the Marvel superheroes, Captain America especially, so usually the wrapping paper from his friends and closer relatives is along that theme but this is just plain dark green paper with a purple bow, a little flattened. Steve knees over to present, sees a gift tag taped to one side and fortunately he's an ages 5+ toy so he can read it.

"Don't leave us in suspense!" Clint calls from the floor and the blanket under Steve's knees shifts a little like Clint has grasped the end and shaken. 

"Hold your horses!" Steve calls back, hears only disgruntled grumbling in response. Natasha is just looking at him mildly, her three sheep clustered behind her legs, one of them chewing on her pants leg nervously. "Hoo boy, you guys all get way too worked up about all of this."

"Just-" Natasha snaps a hand at the gift tag. 

Steve tilts his head to the side, squints. His eyes aren't what they used to be. He's one of the original dolls from the forties but packed away carefully and gifted to Phil by his grandfather because he'd figured the three girls he'd had wouldn't be interested in a super soldier toy. 

Steve tries not to think about the long, lonely years he'd been in stasis.

"Aunt Miriam," Steve reads when Natasha makes a more frantic gesture that he's glad the preschool toys aren't around to see. "It's from Aunt Miriam!" he repeats, louder.

Miriam explains why Phil tossed the present on the bed carelessly before he left for school instead of unwrapping it. Aunt Miriam without fail for every birthday and Christmas always sends clothes.

"False alarm!" Natasha calls, then almost startles off the bed when the present behind them rattles and jumps.

The sheep look way too happy about her momentary surprise.

Steve frowns at her, turns back to the present. He raps on the top. "Hello?"

"Greetings! We heard voices and thought perhaps our incarceration was at an end!" a voice booms from inside the wrapped package. 

"Can you get us out?" Another voice asks, a little higher, a little less boom-y.

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to wait for Phil. He has to unwrap you. It's the Rule," Steve apologizes. The murmuring from down on the floor starts up again and then Clint sails up onto the bed, nearly overshoots but Steve grabs him at the last minute before he tumbles off the other side. 

"Thanks Bruce!" Clint calls, then turns to Steve and his look is pointed. "You guys said _Miriam_. Miriam means clothes. _Clothes don't talk_."

"She's obviously gone in a different direction this year," Natasha remarks. She's tugging at one edge of the package and Steve glares at her until she drops her hands. "What? It was already torn."

"What is it?" Clint demands, hopping over to the present, thumping on the side with his wings until Steve pulls him away.

"When will this _Phil_ return? We have journeyed long and wish to see the sky again," the first voice enquires. He's loud but polite.

"Sod the Rule!" the second voice snaps and Steve frowns.

"It won't be too long," Steve assures the package. Clint's hopping about in a fairly agitated way until Natasha punts him off the bed. She looks back at Steve over her shoulder and shrugs delicately.

*

"My...Little...Ponies." 

Clint is in hysterics, rolling around on the floor of the bedroom, clutching his furry tummy with both wings. "Phil got _girl_ toys!"

"Clint!" Steve snaps, appalled. 

Phil had unwrapped the present the minute he'd gotten home because even though he was expecting clothes, he was still a kid and it was still a wrapped gift so his curiosity won out. He'd held the box in his hands, puzzled for a few minutes before prying the two toys free and setting them on the bed.

"Mom!" he'd called, looking disgruntled. "I think Aunt Miriam sent me Hayley's present."

Phil's mom had entered the room, taken up the box and then eyed the toys. "No, she told me she got you horses. I just didn't realize..." She'd sighed and ruffled Phil's hair. "At least they don't have rainbows and butterflies on them, huh?"

Phil had grumbled, followed his mom out and a little while later the sound of the downstairs television could be heard. Only then had Steve ventured forward.

They _were_ My Little Ponies, but Phil's sister did have some and these were certainly _different_. One was white with a golden mane and a lightning bolt on his flank. The other was dark green with a black mane and gold horns curving out from under his ears. Steve had read their names off the box, kicked halfway under Phil's bed. 

Thor and Loki.

"The little bird seems to be in some kind of distress," Thor says, looking concerned.

"He's making fun of us," Loki spits, advancing on Clint menacingly. 

"Hey now, Clint's just... he doesn't mean anything by it," Steve says quickly, moving between Loki and Clint. "It's good to meet you both, welcome to Phil's room. We've got a pretty good group here, apart from some lapses in manners. Phil's a nice kid, plays hard but fair and is super careful never to break anything."

"I am not a _girl's_ toy," Loki grates through his teeth, leaning around Steve to glare at Clint who is trying to get himself under control.

"You have to forgive Clint being a little hysterical. Birthdays are a stressful time."

"How so?" Thor asks. He seems a lot more jovial than his brother and Steve likes him immediately. 

"There's always new toys. The more insecure of us get worried they'll be... shelved."

"This does not sound pleasant."

"I keep trying to reassure them that Phil wouldn't do that. He plays with everything. He always has, always will." Natasha _humphs_ behind Steve but he ignores her.

"Well met!" Thor proclaims, holds out one hoof to Steve who shakes it immediately. Loki rolls his eyes and stalks off, ignoring Fury who calls after him, "If I see stuffing, your plastic butt is mine!"

"They're hard plastic. They fall under my jurisdiction," Steve says and Fury glares with his one good eye before also stomping away, his small stuffed army trailing behind him.

"It seems you are embroiled in a power struggle," Thor observes.

"Fury's just a load of hot air," Clint huffs. He's meandered behind Thor and is tugging on his tail. "Man, this is _shiny_. What's your secret?"

"Ah-"

"Clint, leave Thor alone. Thor, maybe you want to see to your brother, he looked a little upset?"

Thor nods, golden mane curling over his brow. "He is indeed in a foul humor. I shall attempt to console him." Thor trots away, tail swishing majestically.

*

Steve's pretty secure in his position. Phil's cork bulletin board is covered with pictures of Steve engaged in all manner of heroic acts and he's got Captain America _sheets_ so Steve knows he isn't going anywhere. Still, he can't help the tiny tremor of nervousness that he feels when he's set at the table down in the living room next to Phil and sees the neat stack of presents Phil has to tear through on the morning of his birthday. 

Phil and his mom are moving so Phil's party was held at school since their whole house is a labyrinth of boxes and packing tape. He'd opened the gifts he'd received the day before at his school party and had brought everything home. There were board games, clothes and comic books but nothing truly scary. 

_This_ pile was made by Phil's mom, the person who knows Phil best apart from Steve himself and it's this pile that's worrying him. The toys all knew Steve would be attending the present opening, clutched in a sleepy Phil's hand and Fury had even suggested they try taping Hayley's baby monitor to Steve so they could all listen in. Steve had rolled his eyes because the baby monitor was half his size and Phil, even half-asleep, would notice that.

He watches as Phil sets to, unwrapping gifts with a fastidiousness not usually seen in an eight year old. Phil likes to carefully pry the wrapping apart, fold it neatly and set it aside. Steve knows Phil is being especially careful this morning because Phil's mom found Avengers wrapping paper, with actual comic panels. It's the same three or four panels repeated over and over again but Phil means to keep it, perhaps cover school books and use it for projects. Phil's mom rubs an indulgent hand over his head, fond smile on her face.

Steve watches clothes, another board game and a box that Phil gets _really_ excited about get unearthed. When Phil sets that box aside reverentially, Steve can make out the word _tablet_ and wonders why Phil would be pleased about medication. His attention is snagged away from this idle thought though when Phil reaches the bottom box, bigger than the others and his eyes go round.

"Is it-?" he squeaks.

"Open it and see, honey," Phil's mom says and Phil does, suddenly uncareful about the paper, ripping it and hurling it aside. He holds something aloft, but Steve can't see it because a strip of wrapping paper settles over his head at the worst possible moment and then Phil's hooting and thumping around the house and Phil's mom's laughing and asking him if it's the right one like she doesn't know from Phil's reaction.

Phil thanks her over and over again and then there's the sound of him running upstairs to his room and Steve's... left behind. 

Steve feels a cold curl of dread in the pit of his stomach as the sounds of Phil's mom tidying filter through and then she's lifting the paper off him and picking him up to toss on the coffee table next to the remotes, a scented candle and a stack of magazines.

Steve has never spent a day outside of Phil's bedroom unless he's been with Phil but then Phil's mom is yelling up the stairs for Phil to hurry, he'll be late for school and Steve's reassured, figuring Phil will come looking for him before he leaves.

Steve watches from his prone position on the coffee table as Phil hurtles back down the stairs, backpack slung over his shoulders and something gripped in his arms that Steve can't quite make out. "Can I take him to school today?" Phil is pleading and Steve's excited because he hasn't made a school trip in a while and it's always thrilling.

Phil's mom smiles and says _sure_ and Phil squeaks in joy and then bustles out the door. There's the sound of Phil's mom returning to the kitchen and then Steve sits up slowly.

He's never felt this way before and he doesn't like it. 

He feels... forgotten.

*

"The small bird feared the worst," Thor says, almost affectionate as Steve lets Clint cling to him as soon as Phil's mom has deposited him back in Phil's room later that day. 

"I wasn't scared," Clint says into Steve's chest, then steps back and rubs a wing over his beak and eyes. "You were fine, _of course_ you were fine."

"What happened?" Natasha asks, looking puzzled. If Steve is a little shocked at being left Downstairs then it's nothing compared to the worry and concern greeting him on his return. Phil always, _always_ places Steve propped against his pillow before he leaves the house. He wants Steve to be the first thing he sees when he gets home.

"Did you see what he got?" Steve asks, trying to sound casual about it but apparently failing badly if everyone's expressions are anything to go by.

"Yeah, it was-" Clint starts to say but then there's the _Phil returning_ signal and everyone scatters. Steve flops on the bed, face down like Phil's mom left him and tries not to be too disgruntled about it.

Phil enters the room, singing something under his breath that Steve doesn't recognize. Steve isn't picked up and greeted like he usually is. Steve frowns into Phil's comforter, fighting the urge to turn over surreptitiously because that's against the Rules. There's a second where Phil's warm hand lands on his back and Steve barely gets to think _finally_ when he's shoved sideways, left hanging precariously off the edge of the bed.

Steve has time to see Phil holding something red and then gravity grabs a hold of him and he topples to the floor. Fortunately, his fall is broken by Clint which he knows Clint will complain about bitterly when Phil goes.

Phil's mom pokes her head into the room. "Hon, Bill Bixby's here with his mom. He wants to say goodbye now because he's not going to be in school the rest of the week."

"Okay," Phil says and leaves the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

"What the hell?" Clint squawks, shoving Steve off himself. "Are we in the twilight zone? First you were left Downstairs and now you're off the bed?"

"I'm not _off the bed_ ," Steve grumps. "I just fell off... temporarily."

Something thumps down beside them and Steve nearly has a heart attack when he turns around to see a red, robot-looking creature staring at him.

"Hi!"


	2. Chapter 2

It's Iron Man.

Steve knows logically that he should be thrilled. His namesake’s comic books are filled with the adventures of Captain America and Iron Man, teammates, allies, friends. 

He _should_ be excited, but he's not.

Instead he's got this weird, itchy feeling under his skin that he doesn't like as he watches the other toys flutter around Iron Man, _call me Tony_ , in excitement. They all _ooh_ and _aah_ appropriately as Tony shows them various features. He has blinking lights, sound effects, his helmet flips back to reveal a smirky face underneath.

Steve looks down at himself. All of his joints move, sure, but he's getting a little stiff with age, his uniform not as bright as it once was. Tony is _shiny_ and has that new plastic smell.

Steve knows he's being completely ridiculous. He's usually jazzed about new toys, is the original welcome wagon, going out of his way to make them feel safe and accepted. It's jarring to find yourself in a whole new environment surrounded by strangers and Steve has always prided himself on making the transition from packaging to room life as easy as possible.

Steve needs to get over himself, forget the day's events because it obviously put him in a bad head space, not really prepared for just how... new and fancy Tony is. 

Steve squares his shoulders and strides forward, planning to put on a happy grin and an enthusiastic welcome but as he gets closer he can hear what Tony is saying and he stumbles to a stop.

"Yeah, armor must have gotten more banged up than I realized in transit. I don't know why I can't get it to release. Plus, the repulsors must be damaged because they're not firing. It's really odd. I'm going to need a workspace, some tools. There doesn't seem to be any dings but maybe the connections have been fused together somehow."

Most of the toys are watching Tony in fascination, even Natasha looks a little flushed. 

"Who wants to help me put a workshop together?" Tony asks the assembled group and Steve, who's halted right next to Clint, darts out a hand and smacks down Clint's enthusiastically waving wing.

"Ow, what?" Clint hisses. 

"Is he _kidding_?" Steve grunts back.

"About what?"

"The whole..." Steve gestures at the entirety of Tony's being as Tony gathers volunteers and then leads them towards the furthest corner of the room, talking the whole way. Steve turns slowly back to Clint because he can feel Clint's assessing gaze.

"Oh my goodness, you're _jealous_."

"I am not," Steve says immediately, affronted.

"You _are_. There's finally someone who has the chance to dethrone you as favorite and it's driving you crazy."

"You're crazy," Steve huffs, then points across the room at Tony, who is sending his small group scattering throughout the room in search of god knows what. " _He's_ crazy."

"It's okay. It's actually nice to know that you aren't completely perfect," Clint says gently.

"Argh!" Steve manages intelligently, then stalks away.

*

Phil takes Tony to school again the next day. When he returns, Steve watches the toys gather around him, chattering excitedly. Steve glances morosely at the toy box he'd spent the night in, Tony tucked snugly under Phil's arm in his place.

Natasha had tried to reassure him. "Phil's just excited because he's new."

Steve didn't want to hear it.

He's not pouting, but Tony trying to steal his shield when he's busy _not pouting_ is the final straw.

"Put that down!" Steve snaps, stalking towards Tony who grins and waves.

"Hey, hi! You're the very well proportioned soldier who's been avoiding me. I like the whole... stars and stripes thing you have going on. Very patriotic and especially flattering to the derriere."

Steve doesn't have to ask what a derriere is because he can guess just from where Tony's gaze has wandered. "Give me the shield," Steve grits through his teeth. It's a point of pride he still has it, usually accessories are the first things to be Lost for a toy. Phil is extra careful though, always makes sure Steve has the shield hooked over his arm when he's set down, leaves it in the bedroom if he takes Steve Outside or Downstairs.

"But I neeeeeed it," Tony says in a plaintive tone. "I'm still stuck in this armor and I'd really like-"

"Oh that's _enough_ ," Steve snaps. "Your adoring fans might be fond of your little act but I'm really not impressed." Steve blinks a little, startled at himself. He's never been so... _angry_. He doesn't like what's happening to him. He immediately opens his mouth to apologize but Tony beats him.

"You're a very irate little guy aren't you?"

"I'm bigger than you," Steve immediately retorts, all common sense and politeness fleeing him in the face of Tony's ridiculousness.

"Listen, I'll have this back to you, good as new. I just really need to find out what's wrong with my armor."

Steve glares at Tony but Tony just watches him back mildly, and then something clicks. "Wait, what?"

"I can't get my armor to release," Tony says slowly, like he's talking to a dim bulb which, rude, but also, _what_?

"That's because it's painted on," Steve says, equally slowly.

"Yeah, practically," Tony huffs, doing a little spin in place. "I made it to fit properly for aerodynamic purposes, plus I have fabulous assets to show off."

" _You_ made... wait. Are you actually... do you really think...?" Steve breathes for a moment, before he cracks into hysterics. "Oh my god," he manages. 

"Are you alright?" Tony asks, sounding unsettled.

"Who do you think you are, seriously? Do you _actually_ think you're the _real_ Tony Stark?"

"Unless I've been replaced by a devastatingly handsome clone, yes," Tony confirms, completely serious and Steve collapses on the ground, guffawing. He shouldn't have been jealous of Tony, he should've been pitying him. Feeling sorry for the poor, delusional toy who'd obviously received one too many knocks while in the packaging.

The only thing that stops Steve's hysterics cold is when he notices some of the toys gathered at the window that looks out onto Obie's yard.

Obadiah Stane lives next door to Phil and his mom and has been a source of terror for Phil's toys for a long time, not because of what he's done to any of them but what they've witnessed him do to other toys. A gathering at that particular window only ever means one thing.

"So can I use this?" Tony calls after Steve as he scrambles to his feet and up the side of the desk to reach the window. Tony follows. "What are we looking at?"

"Nothing that would interest _you_ , just us toys," Steve huffs.

Obie's backyard is a barren wasteland of burnt grass and patches of blackened dirt. There's an unused sand box that has half-buried figures poking out of it and a stagnant fish pond that hasn't seen anything living in years. Obie himself is sitting in the middle of the yard, cross-legged, working on something. When he sets it down, Steve groans.

"Oh cool, Superman," Tony remarks, Steve shrugging him off when Tony leans on him to get a better look. "What's he got attached to him. Wait... that looks like-"

"It's an explosive," Steve says. 

"He'll be fine though, right? That's Superman," Tony says and Steve closes his eyes, rubs a tired hand over his face.

"That's a Superman _toy_ ," he says, slowly. "He's about to-"

"Heads up!" Clint calls and everyone ducks for cover. There's a _whump_ and then the sound of Obie's cackling. Steve picks himself up, checks the other gathered toys who all look shaken but fine. Natasha is standing by the edge of the window, hands clasped into fists.

"We're not going to be near anyone like that anymore after the move, right?" 

The news of the move had been scary at first, but also a relief. Phil's room was a safe place, but it was hard being powerless when faced with such wanton destruction only next door.

Steve's eyes catch on Tony who's moved to the window beside Natasha, looking stricken. Steve can see over the edge and down, the disturbed earth where Superman was standing and how there's nothing there anymore, not a trace of him. "If only my armor-" Tony starts to say but Steve cuts him off, furious.

"Just... don't," he spits, turns away.

*

It's two days before the move, twilight, with Phil downstairs eating dinner and most of his toys dozing in their places.

Steve's watching Tony fuss around on top of Phil's desk, looking for more _equipment_ for his _workshop_ when something in Steve just snaps. Tony has a pen, a roll of sticky tape and a couple of push pins tucked up under his arm, right by the edge of the desk and right _over_ the open charity box full of Phil's outgrown clothes that are to be set on the curb for the charity truck.

Steve scurries up the back of Phil's desk, advances on him on silent feet and shoves. Tony looks comically surprised as he tumbles down into the box with a flump. Steve follows after, landing just to the side of the box and he reaches up to smack the flaps closed.

"Hey, who turned out the lights?" Tony complains and the box rattles with his movement.

"I'm doing this for your own good. You're delusional," Steve says and the box ceases hopping.

"Steve?"

"You're a _toy_ , Tony. Maybe this little demonstration will help you realize that."

"What demonstration?"

"I just pushed you into a cardboard box. Does that really sound like something a fella could do to _Iron Man_?"

"My armor-"

"Is _painted_ on, geez. It's not defective, you're not out of battery power, _it's painted on_!"

"I'm not sure what you're getting at."

"I'm showing you that you can't even fight your way out of a cardboard box. _Because you're a toy_."

"Don't make me blast my way out of here. I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Go ahead," Steve says, grins and presses a hand to the box's side. "Make my day."

There's silence, a grunt and then Tony huffs. "The repulsors must have been more damaged than I thought."

"Do I have to leave you in here to think about it, really?" Steve sighs. 

"Isn't this interesting."

Steve spins in place to see Loki behind him, smirking. "Oh, um, hey. This isn't really what it looks like," Steve says quickly, because he's just realized that he's shoved a toy that everyone thinks he's jealous of into a charity box that's _leaving the house_.

"I think it's _exactly_ what it looks like," Loki says, smirk still firmly in place. Steve knows Loki is pretty unhappy with them all, with his lot in life in general, but he's starting to get really unsettled about the way Loki is looking at him. "I think you shoved Iron Man into a charity box to get rid of him and then whoops, tumbled in right after."

"I what-?" Steve starts to say and that's when Loki snaps his head down, catches Steve's legs with his horns and then flips Steve upwards. Steve lands on one of the closed flaps of the box which sags inwards with his weight, tumbling him inside. 

"Aha!" Tony cries, launching himself at Steve when Steve tries to fight his way clear of the clothes so he can get out of the box. 

"No, wait-" Steve cries as Tony pins him and smacks him in the nose with a gauntlet. "Would you stop it, we're-" Steve cries just as the light gets cut off completely and there's a sticky, ripping sound from above.

"What's that?"

"That's Loki _taping us into the box_ ," Steve says. He's not even sure how Loki is handling the roll of sticky tape with his hooves but that's the least of their problems. Steve tosses Tony off himself and pitches upward, smacking against the closed flap of the box. It gives a little, but not nearly enough and at that moment there's more sticky ripping.

He freezes when he hears the rat-a-tat-ta that is the Phil's mom approaching signal. "Oh no," Steve groans as there's the quick, quiet sounds of the toys settling in place and then the door opening.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually post WIPS but if I don't get at least part of this off my harddrive I will continue to poke at it instead of working on my Big Bangs.


End file.
